


Choose Your Words (Cuz There's No Antidote)

by goddess_julie



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mitch Is A Bro, No Smut, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddess_julie/pseuds/goddess_julie
Summary: He’s never been pulled in a game and not sat with the rest of the guys on the bench in his life and he’s sure as hell not going to start now.  But as he gets the pull and is skating back, passing Hutch at the blue line, Freddie knows he needs to take a moment to himself.  He gives his backup goalie a tap on the pads because he’s not a complete asshole, but he doesn’t want to look at or speak to anyone for a moment.  He needs to just …be.  Out of the prying eyes of the cameras broadcasting the game on Sportsnet across Canada for Hometown Hockey night.  Out of the prying eyes of his teammates, of the Panthers’ bench and the fans in the arena, both the home and visitors’ fans.OrFreddie's been pulled again at the start of the second period and he's not happy about it.  Thankfully he's got someone who knows just what he needs.
Relationships: Frederik Andersen/Auston Matthews
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Choose Your Words (Cuz There's No Antidote)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the 01/12/20 game, Leafs @ Panthers. Freddie had just been pulled and I saw him leave the ice and head into the tunnel for a few minutes before returning with a mask of ragey calm on his face. I thought about it and by the middle of the 2nd period pulled out my laptop and started writing this. 
> 
> It definitely got a lot more feeling-y than I expected when I started writing, but I can't not write these boys without giving them all the feels and soppy boys are my favourite kinds of boys.
> 
> I make no claims that any of this fic (or any fic I've written) is fact. Nor am I making any assumptions about anyone you've read within the story. It's just, I like what I like and then I write it. Only betaed by myself, so please let me know if you see anything glaringly wrong. Feedback is always welcome.

He’s never been pulled in a game and not sat with the rest of the guys on the bench in his life and he’s sure as hell not going to start now. But as he gets the pull and is skating back, passing Hutch at the blue line, Freddie knows he needs to take a moment to himself. He gives his backup goalie a tap on the pads because he’s not a complete asshole, but he doesn’t want to look at or speak to anyone for a moment. He needs to just …be. Out of the prying eyes of the cameras broadcasting the game on Sportsnet across Canada for Hometown Hockey night. Out of the prying eyes of his teammates, of the Panthers’ bench and the fans in the arena, both the home and visitors’ fans.

Freddie doesn’t stop once he’s off the ice, he just pushes his way through the wall of people in the bench and takes a dozen steps into the hall towards the locker room. The decals on the wall don’t even register through his anger and he avoids the eyes of security and random people standing in the hallway.

“FUCK. MOTHERFUCKING FUCK.” He yells, he’s still wearing his mask so it comes out garbled but he’s sure they get the point as he rears back and hits the wall with his hockey stick, effectively cracking it at an angle. Wood pieces scatter and he’s so mad that he’s broken his stick that he swings around and hits the wall with the piece he’s still holding which only breaks it further. The trainer who was sent to watch him meets his eye and Freddie tosses the stick to the floor with a frustrated sigh. He doesn’t use the full force of his muscle but punches the wall, thank god he still has his gloves on or he’s pretty sure he’d have broken something, and schools the expression on his face to a blank, passive stare. He nods in acknowledgement and he hands his mask to the trainer as he steps back into the bench area, he willingly takes the exchange, a Leafs ball cap, and sits down.

The anger hasn’t dimmed at all, he’s furious and impatient for them to get their shit together and get back to playing the hockey he knows that they’re capable of playing. Freddie has no fucking clue where he’s gotten lost these past weeks but he’s fucking sick and tired of it.

He watches the team with an intensity that absolutely stokes the fire in his chest and feeds the pain behind his temples. He sees sloppy passes, turnovers where he knows that they should be scoring and knows that he really needs to put his own shit behind him and focus on what they’re doing and how they’re going to come back from this slump.

Hyman scores. Freddie barely breathes and watches the goals against climb even higher. On the bench Freddie meets Mitch’s eye leans in. “Stop being sloppy, you’re better than those passes. Don’t look at the score, just fucking play.”

He watches as Zach passes to Mitch who scores. Freddie would be lying if he didn’t admit that he’s proud of the determined focus Mitch has after the goal rather than any showboating. This is not the time nor the score for it. Instead, he taps Zach’s gloves and they head to the bench. Mitch leans in and catches Freddie’s eye. “Better?”

Freddie only raises an eyebrow. Its still an embarrassing game but they’re scoring and they understand the weight of what a comeback would do for their morale.

It’s not that he’s never had a slump in his career. And really, he’s reluctant to call it a ‘slump’ since it’s been two games and a shitty shoot out that he never should have even had to be in had he not been caught out of the net and scrambled. So really, he’s had a few bad games that are amplified by the way the rest of the team are playing in addition to the All Star talk that is an added stress that he should be able to just tune out but can’t.

Maybe it’s just new year, new decade shit that he’s never really put stock in before but seems to have coincidentally started to fuck up with his game. Freddie is mature enough to not blame the last few days wholly on the team in front of him. They’re not scoring how they’ve been since Keefe took over, but he’s responsible for letting the goals in. It’s just really fucking annoying and he hates letting down the team. He hates letting himself down.

In the end, the score doesn’t matter. They lose spectacularly but whether it’s by 1 goal or 4, it’s still a loss. What matters is that he’s been pulled twice in less than 2 weeks only minutes into the second period and while he can’t take back those goals he let in, he doesn’t get to go back in to finish the game and end it on his terms.

It’s a pride thing and fuck anyone who says they wouldn’t feel the same way. He’s too good, too proud to be yanked and sit there without being able to contribute, without being able to redeem himself.

“You don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” JT had said after the second period in the locker room during intermission. 

And while he respects his Captain and the fact that John probably believed what he’d said, it was bullshit. He has everything to prove to himself. To his teammates. To the game. Keefe is giving them a talk and Freddie is processing the conversation around him. He sees the frustrations on the guys faces, the exhaustion in their eyes and the determination to come out in the third stronger than they had in the first. 

One glance across the room has him eyeing Mitch and Auston. Both who are looking intently at their phones, typing furiously before looking up at each other without saying anything only to start the process again. Their faces are impassive, no hint of amusement found anywhere in their gaze or fine lines of their mouths. Freddie knows their bond, knows how well they work together and figures that they’re talking strategy in their own way. He’s worked with a lot of kids fresh to the show but no one has had an instant connection like these two have and Freddie admires their relationship.

Auston looks up and their gazes meet. There was a time that Auston would shrink back from the intense glare Freddie would look at him with, but now, he keeps Freddie’s gaze steady and confident.

Part of Freddie, just a small part and only for a second, resents Auston. He’s breaking records, on the tips of everyone’s tongue and does it so effortlessly that if you weren’t paying attention, you would think it was nothing to him, meant nothing to him other than fun. But Freddie knows that’s not the truth, that there is nothing further than the truth and that everything Auston is and does is the result of hard work and even harder drive. As easy as Auston makes it look, he works ten times harder, he has ten times more pressure put on him and is scrutinized that much more. He seems stoic most of the time, not often showing any emotion that he doesn’t want anyone seeing, but it’s unwise to interpret that as indifference because Auston has more drive than any 22 year old he’s ever met.

And fuck, now Freddie feels an ugly curl of guilt growing in his stomach. He swallows it down and averts his eyes to look back at John who is now addressing the team. They’re heading back to the bench after the second intermission when Auston stalls. As Freddie catches up, he taps Freddie’s pads with his stick.

“Tonight. After the game.”

Freddie doesn’t pause. “No.”

“I’m not asking,” Auston falls into line behind Freddie.

“Fuck you.”

“You gotta ask nicer than that, Fred,” Auston teases and Freddie knows it’s to piss him off. Auston knows that making jokes when he’s this amped up from a fucking embarrassment of a game is only going to piss him off more, like he’s trying to provoke a reaction from him. His face is blank when Freddie turns to raise an eyebrow at Auston who is matching his attitude without backing down.

Their stare down is broken when Mitch shoulders Auston and nudges him in the direction of the ice. Freddie takes his place against the glass and works to push the frustration he can still feel at the edge of his periphery out. It’s almost gone when they head to the locker room to shower and change.

Questions from the media are exactly what he expected, looking for answers he doesn’t have. He knows they’re struggling, he knows HE’S struggling and he knows they have to do something to get themselves back on track. 

He’s out of the shower and in his suit without Auston making any attempt to speak with him. Mistakenly, he thinks that Auston has conceded and will leave without him so that he can go back to the hotel on his own. They’re flying out in the morning as opposed to tonight after the game and Freddie wants to go to the hotel, have a few drinks to numb the rest of this mood and destress.

Freddie exits the locker room to find Auston waiting for him. His anger bubbles up as he pushes past the younger man. “Not tonight Matts.”

“Well we can’t do it tomorrow night since we’ll be at home, so it’s going to have to be tonight.” 

Freddie’s step falters and he looks over his shoulder at Auston who is watching him with guarded eyes. He’s not giving anything away, not even in his eyes which Freddie can usually read without trouble.

“Aus,” Freddie’s shoulders sag and he allows for the first show of emotion since the game started tonight. He’s trying hard not to give Auston the reaction he’s clearly looking for and so he opts for exhaustion. “Not…”

“Not tonight. I heard you.” Auston’s voice is hard. “Just fucking trust me, alright? Don’t be a dick about this.” He walks ahead and expects Freddie to follow. Auston doesn’t even look back, making long confident strides and in an instant Freddie makes a decision to follow him.”

Mitch meets them at the bus looking tired but determined. Freddie assumes that it’s because he’s expecting him to still be putting up a fight and as always, Mitch is there to back Auston up without question. For the second time tonight, Freddie admires their easy friendship, the way Mitch and Auston support each other unconditionally and without judgement. He’s seen a lot of friends made in this league, has made a lot of friends but none have ever come close to what Auston and Mitch have, not as fast and not as strong. It’s somewhat intimidating but at the same time, he’s not embarrassed to admit that he has always longed to be a part of something that strong.

Auston hands over his game bag and Mitch takes it without saying a word. Mitch holds out his hand for Freddie’s, slapping his shoulder when Freddie doesn’t move. 

“Fuck, Freddie, just give it to me. You’re not going to need it,” Mitch rolls his eyes and forcibly takes Freddie’s bag. He leans in to hug Auston, presses their foreheads together as he whispers something that only they can hear. Freddie watches Auston respond which causes Mitch to ruffle his hair playfully.

“Asshole,” Auston chuckles as he tries to fix what Mitch has ruined.

“You love me.”

“Lies.” Auston tugs on the elbow of Freddie’s suit jacket to pull him in the opposite direction of where the bus was idling. “Come on, lets go.”

Freddie doesn’t say anything, just follows Auston silently with his head down and thoughts lost. They climb into an Uber and he sits back with his head resting on the seat behind him. The car is almost silent, only the radio is playing softly in the car. Their driver doesn’t say anything and Auston’s not even looking in Freddie’s direction let alone speaking to him.

The feel of Auston’s hand covering his startles Freddie. His eyes fly from where they had been focused on the roof above him to Auston’s profile. Auston’s hand is firm on his, it’s hidden in the dark of the backseat and he squeezes Freddie’s fingers just enough to let him know that the gesture is on purpose. Auston isn’t looking at him, but Freddide can see a small curl of his lip and he feels something rumble in his chest.

They don’t speak until the driver pulls up to their destination and both men step out of the car. The building looks like a warehouse and there is a neon sign that displays The Break Room. Freddie looks at Auston who is grinning sheepishly as he leads Freddie to the front door.

“Here?” Freddie asks. Auston nods in the direction of the door.

“Just come on.” 

Freddie is still not entirely sure where they are and what this is, but he trusts Auston, despite the insinuation Auston had made earlier that he doesn’t, and follows him in.

“Mr. Matthews,” the man behind the counter smiles at them as they approach the service desk. “Welcome to The Break Room.” He looks at Freddie and his grin widens. “Mr. Andersen, welcome.”

Freddie nods and gives a confused smile to the man. 

“It’s Auston, and thank you for accommodating us,” Auston says as he shakes the man’s hand. “I appreciate the trouble.”

“Oh, no trouble Auston. Follow me, I’ll take you to your room.”

Freddie watches this man lead them down a hallway and open a set of double doors. They walk in to find a large room that is not empty, but not decorated. While they are in a concrete room with high ceilings, there are also random walls built into the room in front of the concrete walls. Freddie can see along the wall next to the door, there are shelves filled with dishes and vases, a bunch of breakable ceramics and there are two large screen TVs. Hanging on the wall are two sledge hammers, protective gloves and glasses, Freddie feels something unfurl in his gut and he nods to the employee who has left him and Auston alone in the room.

“Aus?” Freddie says, a hint of a smile curling on his lip.

Auston takes a deep breath and holds his hands out in a placating gesture. “Okay so, keep in mind I set this up after the second period when you’d been pulled and we were like, fucking abysmal right. So think back to the second period … fuck, think back to the first and the second and think of the mind frame you were in then?”

Nodding, Freddie takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He can still taste the frustration and anger he felt earlier. 

“I asked Marns what we should do, like to make this better for you or at least distract you from the shit on the ice and he said ‘fuck, I just want to take a sledgehammer and wreck shit. And if I feel that way, imagine how Fred feels.’” Auston steps in close enough that they’re chest to chest, but not encroaching into Freddie’s personal space. He looks up at the ceiling and registers the security cameras, for their safety and for the facility’s safety. “And we both just thought FUCK, that’s perfect.”

“You’re…”

“Amazing. I know,” Auston gives a cocky smile that is ruined only by the faint pink blush on the tops of his cheeks. They take a few moments to just look into each other’s eyes until finally Auston breaks their stare. He looks down at his dress shoes for a moment before raising his eyes back to meet Freddie’s stare. “Yeah?” It’s as though he knows how great an idea this is and that it is exactly what Freddie needs tonight, but still isn’t sure that Freddie feels the same way and wants his approval.

Freddie takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. He exhales the frustration from tonight’s game. From the game against the Jets and the Oilers. From all of the fucking questions he had after tonight’s game when all he wanted to do was just go back to his room and try and figure out what the fuck is going on with him. He leads Auston over to the wall and hands him a pair of gloves and a sledgehammer before grabbing his own.

“Fucking yeah,” he says with a grin once he has his protective glasses firmly in place.

“Just thought this would be fun. Breaking shit…”

“Really fucking fun,” Freddie agrees. He looks at the room and tries to decide what he wants to start with. The walls are clearly constructed for the purpose to destroy them and tear them down. “Wall first?”

Auston nods. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sets it up on one of the shelves. They both remove their suit jackets, laughing at the fact that they’re in their game day suits and not something more comfortable. But Freddie thinks that it’s even better this way. The suits remind him of the confidence they walked into the arena with earlier this evening only to leave after a truly embarrassing loss. Their jackets are removed and folded neatly on a chair in the corner of the room. Auston has removed his tie and loosened the top few buttons of his dress shirt where Freddie has pulled his dress shirt out of his slacks and only loosened his tie. Once they’ve rolled their sleeves up and dressed up with goggles, gloves and protective gear, Auston starts loud, angry music and they get to work.

Freddie feels a sense of giddiness at Auston’s wide grin, at the pure elation in his eyes at how Freddie has responded to this idea. He thinks about how Auston and Mitch did this for him, came up with this idea to counteract how much tonight sucked. That they care about him as much as they do and how he couldn’t have even imagined how this whole night would have gone only hours earlier.

Neither talk much at the start, Auston has moved to the constructed wall to the left and Freddie to the right. The music fuels them and they take a moment after a few swings to survey their own damage but each other’s as well. Freddie flashes Auston a wide, excited grin as Auston rears back and slams a hole in the wall that goes directly through the drywall.

Freddie follows suit and when his sledgehammer cracks through the plaster, he lets out a deafening roar. He screams until he’s breathless and takes another swing at the wall. The satisfaction of release of the pent-up anger inside of him, mixed with the sound of the pieces of wall spraying the floor around him is overwhelming and downright erotic.

Auston follows his lead and rears his head back to yell at the top of his lungs before he takes another crack at the wall which is now very nearly obliterated.

“Tv’s?” Freddie asks, heaving for breath as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“Fucking TVs!” Auston agrees. They position the flat screen TVs on the floor, screen up in the middle of the room. They’re far enough apart that neither run the risk of being hit by each other if they miss, but close enough that they meet each other’s gaze and scream at the same time.

“ONE.”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

The reverberation of the sledgehammer on the screen is jarring but satisfying. Freddie can feel it all the way up his arm and down his spine. Just the controlled violence of the destruction brings back all of his frustrations, anger and temper from the past few weeks and in a way, tames it. It feeds the need to break shit, to lash out and destroy something, anything so that he can put all of that emotion and rage into something tangible. It’s something he can physically feel and it is a fucking great feeling.

Freddie takes a moment to watch Auston, the way he is staring at the TV on the ground with focus and intensity. He watches Auston lick his lips in anticipation and pull back to land an absolutely filthy shot to the middle of the television screen. Without taking a break, Auston pulls back and lands another direct hit and smirks at the destruction he’s caused.

It would be a lie if Freddie failed to admit he was hard at the pure power Auston demonstrated. Not to mention the way he was glowing from sweat under the harsh lights above.

“Fucking hit it,” Auston taunts when he realizes that Freddie has stopped. “Hit it for every fucking goal that went in tonight. Hit it for Edmonton and fucking Davo’s smug bastard of a face.”

Freddie tilts his head and smirks. “Mitch hear you talking about McDavid like that?”

“Fuck you, Riko.”

His smirk turns into an honest to god grin. “You’re gonna have to ask me nicer than that Matts.”

Auston shakes his head as though he’ll concede the point and motions towards the TV. “Just let it have it. Just fucking own it.”

Freddie takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes. He can still feel Auston’s heavy gaze on him and feels his cock twitch at the heat in the moment. The pure power he knows he has, on the ice and off. How he has a fucking massive sledgehammer in his hand at midnight in fucking Florida after a shit show of a game that he just wants to ignore. His eyes are practically glowing when he opens them, bites his lower lip between his teeth and brings the hammer down on the screen with every ounce of power and strength that he has.

Pieces fly everywhere and the frame of the television jumps about a foot in the air from the sheer force of his hit. This time Auston screams along side him in solidarity and they’re both grinning when they finally stop.

“We’ll end with a bit of dishware and head out,” Auston orders. He takes off his gloves and protective glasses to put them on the wall next to where his sledgehammer is hung. Auston approaches Freddie to take his gear as well. Their fingers grace as Auston takes the gloves from Freddie’s hand and neither man is immune to the electricity that results from their skin brushing. He inhales sharply as he watches Auston’s pupils dilate with arousal.

Both men grab a box with mugs and cups and place it on the table before them. Auston motions for Freddie to go first and waits as Freddie pulls out a heavy mug. He tests the weight in his hand before launching it against the cement wall a few feet away.

Watching the ceramic shards explode is as satisfying as Freddie thought it would be. He watches Auston follow suit and they both break into a deep laughter that has tears in both of their eyes by the time they’re able to catch their breath again.

“Oh fuck, this is genius. This whole fucking concept is genius,” Freddie admits as he lets a pint glass go flying across the room into the wall.

“Yeah, Mitchy was pretty butthurt that he couldn’t come.”

Freddie smiles at Auston for his admission and shrugs. “He could have.” He’s actually surprised that he didn’t come, but he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Nah, wasn’t about that. This was about you. And besides, we can go when we’re at home. I checked, Toronto has a few too. We’ll take him when we get home.”

Freddie doesn’t even try to hide the blush that results from Auston’s words. He knows the smile on his face is more of admiration than anything and he doesn’t care. Nothing could bring him down from this high right now and he’s going to enjoy every minute.

“Maybe make it a team bonding thing,” Freddie thinks out loud. They exchange a knowing smile and nod. “Fuck yeah, can you imagine it? Willy with a fucking sledgehammer?”

“I bagsy NOT being his partner,” Auston laughs as he launches two glasses at the same time across the room.

They’re both physically exhausted by the time they’re done. The emotional and mental exhaustion had taken a back burner for the last hour and a half while adrenaline had been rushing through their veins, but now they were more than ready to head back to the hotel and crash.

Both men thank the manager of the facility for fitting them in and staying late to accommodate them. The Uber that Auston has booked arrives and he spends a few minutes playing around on his phone as they head towards the hotel. Freddie is watching Auston’s lips move as he types to someone, mouthing along with some of the words and then curling into a smile before he locks the screen and slides his phone back into his coat.

Without missing a beat, Auston’s hand reaches between them on the seat to cover Freddie’s and he looks almost surprised at Freddie’s attention as he glances across the back seat of the car.

“What?” Auston says through a shy smile. He averts his eyes out the window over Freddie’s shoulder before he meets his gaze again.

“Just …that was fucking amazing. Like, just what I needed tonight.” Freddie is so endeared that he finds himself grinning at Auston. “Like…”

“Right? Just breaking shit. Having free reign to just fuck shit up? Best fucking feeling in the world.”

“Well?” Freddie smiles and shrugs. Maybe not THE BEST, hoisting the Stanley Cup at Scotiabank when they win would be the fucking best feeling in the world. But he knows what Auston means.

“Obvi,” Auston rolls his eyes and smacks at Freddie’s shoulder playfully. “But still.”

“But still…”

It’s unspoken that they’ll head to Auston’s room when they get back to the hotel. Freddie’s not sure when they’d agreed on it, but Auston took the lead and Freddie had just followed him into the elevator, up to the 11th floor and then down to Auston’s room. There is a room service tray sitting in the centre of the room in front of the television, and while Freddie is surprised to see it there, he realizes that Auston isn’t. 

Auston grins and pulls off each dome to see what is underneath them. There is a steak and fries on one plate and what looks like a burger with ceasar salad on the other. At the confused expression on Freddie’s face, Auston covers the plates again and shrugs. “I had Mitchy order some food for us so that it would be here just as we came in.”

Freddie doesn’t speak, his stomach is fluttering and he takes a step towards Auston.

“We didn’t eat after, we just had a pretty wicked work out and I’m starving, so I figured you’d be…”

Auston’s words are cut off by Freddie’s mouth covering his. For a moment, Auston freezes but Freddie tilts his head and tugs at his coat to pull him in closer.

“Thank you,” Freddie whispers against Auston’s lips when he pulls away enough for them to breathe. His hands have made it to the back of Auston’s head and his fingers are carding through Auston’s hair gently. “For everything tonight, thank you.”

Auston’s hands reach to cup Freddie’s jaw, stroking his stubble as his eyes search Freddie’s gaze. “I love you, Fred. So fucking much. I would do anything for you.”

“I know,” Freddie breathes against Auston’s kiss. He rests their foreheads together before taking Auston in another deep kiss so that he can lick lazily against Auston’s teeth and finally stroking his tongue. “And I love you for that. I love you too.”

“And I hate seeing you so frustrated. I know how hard this is and I hate seeing you upset and in pain.” Auston slips out of his suit jacket and tosses it on the second bed in the room. He follows suit with Freddie’s coat and tugs him towards the shower. 

“Thank you.”

“So we’re going to shower…” Auston shakes his head at the slow grin that covers Freddie’s face. “Fucking hell, no. We are going to shower and eat and then crash. I’m too fucking hungry and tired...”

Freddie will deny the whine that escapes his lips until his dying day. He doesn’t whine, he is a man god damn it.

“We’ll shower, eat and sleep. And then we’re going to get on the plane tomorrow and go home. And since we have a night off tomorrow, then maybe you can fuck me.”

“Maybe?” Freddie laughs at the way Auston rolls his eyes and blushes.

“Okay fine. Tomorrow when we get home you can fuck me in our bed.”

Freddie feels a wave of exhaustion roll over him as his stomach growls angrily. “Deal.” But he’s not going to let Auston think it’s because he’s too tired too. He loves it when Auston thinks he’s won a round and gets cocky about it. It’s always that much better when Auston has something to brag about.

It’s after 1 when they’re out of the shower and side by side on the bed eating their dinner. They have a random movie on the TV and Auston checks his messages as his phone pings with a new alert. Freddie watches him roll his eyes and throw his phone behind him on the mattress.

“Text Mitchy. Let him know you’re okay.”

Freddie raises an eyebrow as he takes a bite of his hamburger. “What?”

Austin gives a half shrug and runs his fries through the ketchup on the corner of his plate. “He’s worried, wants to make sure you’re cool. I told him you’re feeling better but he wants to hear it from you.” Freddie feels the blush on his cheeks and averts his eyes from Auston’s knowing smile. “You’re such a fucking nerd,” Auston says with a laugh.

“Why?”

“Because it always shocks you how much my best friend cares about you. Like, doesn’t matter that you’re teammates and you’re like, one of his best friends too. But you’re my boyfriend and he cares about you because I love you.”

Because he doesn’t know what else to say, he says the only thing that comes to his mind. “Why didn’t he just text me?”

“Because your phone is off dick. Apparently the entire team has been texting to make sure you’re cool and since you haven’t been answering, he’s been fielding calls. So turn your damn phone on and text him.”

Auston is right, Freddie has a surprisingly high number of texts in his inbox. Most from the team, some from friends who had seen the game but about fifteen alone from Mitch. Instead of answering through text, he opens Snapchat and pulls Auston close so they’re both in the shot. Freddie snaps the picture and writes ‘Thanks Marns, feeling good’ and sends it to Mitch. It’s only seconds later that Mitch sends back a sleepy snap of his own, eyes hooded and sleepy smile with a thumbs up.

_“Your boy take good care of you?”_ A new text comes in from Mitch and it makes Freddie blush and look down at his phone with a soppy grin.

_“Always does. He knows just what to do to make me smile.”_ Freddie types and sends. He thinks about it for a second and types again. _“Plus his best friend is pretty great too.”_

_“Wing man for life,_ ” Mitch responds with a smiley emoji with sunglasses. _“Glad you’re good bro. Night.”_

It doesn’t take long once they’re done eating to crawl into bed and get comfortable. They’ve got an early wake up time in the morning, but both men know they can sleep on the plane and then once they get back home to Toronto.

Freddie slides against Auston’s back, pulling the younger man in to spoon. He’s slid his leg between Auston’s and their fingers are tangled together at Auston’s navel comfortably.

“I know I’ve said it a lot tonight,” Freddie says against the back of Auston’s neck. He presses his lips there in a feather light kiss and licks at the goosebumps that result. “But thank you babe. For just …knowing and caring enough to know.”

“Whatever you need,” Auston replies and tightens his hold on Freddie’s hands in his own. “Anytime you need it, I want to give it to you. Whether it’s renting a room to wreck shit or just coming back to a hotel room or our place to just be alone and de-stress, I’ll do whatever it takes to give you what you need. Even when you don’t realize you need it.”

Auston was right tonight, Freddie can see that now and honestly, he knew it earlier. Auston knows that sometimes Freddie needs to be alone and stew with whatever is bothering him. He thinks it over, works out what is so frustrating and then will move past it. But some times, that method of dealing with what is bothering him will only make things worse. It doesn’t provide him the adequate outlet he needs to process what is making him angry. And those nights he needs to be pushed and challenged. Auston always knows what he needs, and if he’s ever wrong, they work through it and come out stronger.

He has this beautiful boy with him, who loves him more than he’s ever known love before and who Freddie has loved more than he knew possible. He has Auston’s best friend who loves him almost as much, albeit in a different way, who could have been jealous and hateful when he and Auston got together. Freddie knows that sharing someone you’re so close with, love so hard and is so important to you can be hard, but Mitch has only embraced him into their circle and who never fails to remind Freddie how important he is to Auston and therefore is important to Mitch.

Sleep is coming much easier to Freddie tonight than he’d expected at the arena. And it has everything to do with Auston, who is snoring quietly in his arms and holding on to him like he’ll never let him go.

Finis


End file.
